


Quite all right

by Sannek



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Banter, Dialogue-Only, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 08:23:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17240822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sannek/pseuds/Sannek
Summary: Kirk, Spock and McCoy on their way through the ship. And as always - unforeseen things happen.





	Quite all right

**Author's Note:**

> Has been a little while since I last posted anything... So here is a little experiment. Wanted to know if I could do a piece with dialogue only. That's what came through.  
> Hope it's coherent enough and didn't just make sense in my own head...

 

 

„Mr Spock, are you all right?“

„I am functioning adequately, captain.“

“If you’re sure...”

“Quite.”

“Okay.”

“You may enter the lift first, captain.”

“What’s it you’re mumblin’ about between the two of you?”

“Oh, hi Bones.

…Please, after you! - Deck 5.”

“So, care to tell me, what’s eating the both of you?”

“There’s no-”

“I can assure you, doctor, that none of us is currently suffering from any kind of parasitic infections.”

“...”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Spock! You could at least pretend that you understood what I said. It’s a human saying.

Means, you’re sittin’ round like a bunch of ol’ men mumbling to yourselves an’ all. You sure, you’re all right.”

“I am functioning adequately.”

“He told me the same some two minutes ago. Somehow I don’t believe him.”

“As I am currently present, I am able to hear you, Jim.”

“Spock!? Are you ill?”

“I already told you, captain -”

“You just called me Jim! And it’s the middle of the shift!”

“Not quite, Captain. We already have passed sixty two point seven percent of our working hours of this day.”

“Sixty two point seven, huh? What about the second decimal place? Sixty two point seven seems to be quite a careless calculation coming from you, Mr. Spock.”

“Leave it to the computer to calculate our living time!”

“Bones.”

“We have now passed _exactly_ sixty three point one zero five percent of our working time, captain.”

“Pointy eared computer…”

“I was teasing, Spock.

And, well, you still don’t look so good.”

“If your blood where green, Jim, you’d be getting sick looks, too.”

“Thanks for your support, Bones.

\- by the way, last time I checked, you were my ship’s CMO so this should be your text!”

“He’s Vulcan, Jim. He’s always that cold. And I think he doesn’t look any different.”

“I am still able to hear you, doctor.”

“Bones, -”

“See? He’s all right.”

“I don’t -”

“Jim, your hobgoblin’s all right.

Now, how ‘bout we getting us a table and something to eat to put on it?”

“He’s not _mine_ in any way.”

“He’s _your_ first officer, isn’t he? And _your_ friend and -”

“If I remember correctly, it is considered impolite by your species to talk about a third party. Even more so when said third party is present.”

“You feelin’ excluded Spock?”

“Bones -”

“I do _not_ feel anything, doctor. I was simply considering politeness.”

“Sure.”

“Gentlemen. I thought we were going to have lunch.”

“Well, we are! Aren’t we? Your hobgoblin is the one to argue!”

“I merely pointed out the parameters of politeness as considered adequate by your own species.”

“Sure.

So now that we established that you’re not arguing or feelin’ excluded, Spock, you’re with us for lunch or not?”

“I have already eaten, thank you. But if this is what you call a social call, I am willing to accompany you to the mess.”

“Hear, hear, Spock doin’ a social call!”

“That’s, um… good, Spock. Nice to have you with us.”

…

“So what did you get yourself earlier?”

“Pardon?”

“To eat. What did you eat?”

“I fail to see the relevance of this question, captain.”

“It’s simple curiosity, Spock. Small talk. We humans do it a lot, just to show we care.”

“Ah.”

“So?”

“I’ll be damned, I’m curious, too.”

“I had never thought you cared, doctor.”

“Touche.”

“So?”

“One of the science teams insisted that I share their celebration of an important achievement. They served what they called Brownies and a dish called Blackout Cake for an early lunch.”

“Spock! I’d never taken you for one having a sweet tooth!”

“I never get invitations of this kind, must be doing something wrong...”

“Be thankful, Jim, you’d just get fat.”

“Why, thank you, Bones.

So, how was the cake, Spock?”

“It was… acceptable.”

“There goes Spock havin’ a sweet tooth… And get that look off your face, kid! A man may be allowed his amusements.”

“Not if it’s at my first officer’s costs.”

“Ooooh, feelin’ protective, huh?

Don’t think your hobgoblin needs protectin’. What do you say, Spock? ….Spock?”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s just teasing you… and being nasty. … Spock?

… I think you broke him, Bones.”

“You feel like you want to go to sickbay, Spock? You really ain’t looking so well.”

“I am… adequate, doctor.”

“Adequate, my ass!”

“Bones!

Then, um, can you, you know, um, …let go of the table?”

“I do not … think that I can … captain.”

“Bones, do something!”

“Well as it is, I can’t carry him down to sickbay an’ I haven’t developed my miracle, x-ray eyes yet!”

“I am experiencing a … weird sense of … vertigo.”

“Hold on, Spock! You think you can get up, walk to sickbay? Do something, Bones!”

“Damn pointy eared… Don’t ya keep throwing me that look! I wasn’t involved in getting him sick!”

“Keptin. Commander. Doctor. Is everithing all right?”

“Uh, Chekov…”

“He means to say everything was great until his hobgoblin got sick.”

“Bones!

Well, I’m sure there is somewhere else you’re needed, Chekov...”

“Mr. Spock is sick?

Sir, maybe you should not hev eaten too much of zat cake?”

“We’re doing all right here, Chekov.”

“What cake?”

“Ze Blackout Pie Miss Tinners was heving for the conclusion of her newest projekt… I tried to warn him zat it waz a lot of sugars and chocolates for one unaccustomed to it. But-

 _B_ _ozhe moy_! I never would hev zought zere was anything on ze saying zat Vulcans did get drunk on chocolates!”

“Hold on a second, _what_?”

“I don’t… feel so good.”

“Hold on, Spock!

Bones, we’ve got to- where did you get that tricorder?”

“Always carry one with me in case any of you morons get yourself in trouble...”

“So, what’s it saying? He really, well, um… drunk? …Bones? _Bones_! Get, the hell, that smile off you’re face, it’s not funny!”

“Oh, yeah it is…!”

“You fucker, your this ship’s CMO you should be concerned about her crew!

You didn’t hear that, Chekov.”

“Aye, keptin.”

“Shut it Bones! Stop laughing! _Fucking stop it_!”

“’m sorry, Jim. But a drunk Vulcan… A man has his limits!”

“Help him! This is not funny!”

“All right, all right. Stop hiss-yelling at me, kid, I’ll take care of your little drunk elf.”

“’m not an elf! ‘m Vulc’n.”

“I know, Spock. Stop talking. Focus on getting up!

So, that’s it. Alright, you can use the table for balance, now straighten your knees – holy hell’s kittens you’re heavy! Any help here, Jim?”

“’m not in the mood for cuddles, doctor.”

“… - I-, it’s-, I-,… I’m not cuddling with you, Spock, I’m trying to help you stand!

Now you watch it, kid! Don’t you laugh at me doin’ my duty!

Chekov! Give me a hand, will you? Since our captain is busy laughing at me...”

“I would rather not be involved in your fightings, doctor...”

“That’s not a request, Chekov! Just take Spock’s other arm and help me get him to sickbay!”

“… I do not zink I am comfortable wiz hugging ze commander, doctor…”

“Is there anyone sane on this ship? I’m not asking you to hug him but to help me carry his heavy Vulcan ass to sickbay!- Damnit, Spock, you’re slipping! Sweet starshine! Get a grip on yourself!”

“I… I shall sit down…”

“No, fucking, no you don’t! Spock!”

“Can you please cease yelling, doctor? You can tell me about your discomforts when I am properly rested.”

“… - Spock! Jim! Do something!”

“Has ze commander passed out?”

“Don’t you get you’re nose into matters that don’t concern you! Spock? You still with us?”

“Okay, Chekov, you stay right where you are! You too, Bones.

 _Ensin! Have sickbay send an anti grav stretcher_ _to the mess_ _!_ And stop the hell staring, there’s nothing to see here…”

“Would be more effective if you’d told him instead of the thin air between us!”

“Shut it up, Bones. Spock?”

“Don’t bother yourself. Your pointy-eared boozehound is already sleeping off his little jag.”

“But it’s the middle of the mess!”

“Well don’t blame me! At least I tried to get him to sickbay!

Now where’s that damn stretcher?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of Star Trek or the characters in it and I don't get any profits by writing these stories.


End file.
